


Lord Banchory and Lady Ravenclaw

by looneylizzie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Hogwarts Founders Era, Murder-Suicide, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 17:22:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9395546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/looneylizzie/pseuds/looneylizzie
Summary: It didn't take long for history to forget Lady Helena Ravenclaw or Lord Burke, Baron of Banchory.Won Second in awesomepotter’s ‘Coined by Shakespeare’ Challenge, Second in DracosGirl12’s Unloved Character Challenge and FIRST PLACE in merlins beard's Ghost Story Challenge on HPFF!Incredible banner by katharos @TDA





	

Lord Banchory never intended for things to happen this way.  
  
He stood at the edge of the forest, peering into the darkness, his stomach twisting uncomfortably as he took several deep breaths. He wasn’t scared. No, he was just nervous. He’d been sent on a mission, and he didn’t want to fail his mistress. Not as she lay on her deathbed.  
  
He moved forward, eyeing the ominous looking trees, their leaves rustling in the slight breeze, as though they were whispering to each other.  
  
“Just find her,” Banchory muttered under his breath, forcing himself to continue walking, the increasing darkness consuming him.  
  
He walked for hours, with no sign of anything other than the trees. Beginning to get frustrated, he decided that it was pointless to follow the rules and not cast magic here. There weren’t any muggles around anyway. He pulled out his wand, waving it all around him, muttering, “Homenum Revelio.”  
  
A blast of air whooshed from his wand and out into the woods. A soft white light appeared a ways off to the left. He headed towards it, taking several more deep breaths, still trying to calm his nerves.  
  
Even after 15 years, she still made him as nervous as a young lad about to duel for the first time.  
  
As he approached, the darkness seemed to have lifted a bit, the glowing light slowly changing in color, from white to orange. He reached the edge of a small, circular clearing, a warm fire crackling in the center of it.  
  
“Lord Banchory,” came a soft voice from behind a tree, before a woman stepped out from the shadows, an angry expression darkening her face. “Or should I say, m’Lord Burke, Baron of Banchory?” She curtsied dramatically.  
  
Banchory couldn’t help but smile at her. This was the woman he had loved for years, but she had always denied him, no matter what he did, what he sacrificed, or what he gave her. She denied him time and time again, yet he could not help but love her.  
  
“M’Lady Helena,” he said in a soft voice he reserved only for her. “You look as beautiful as ever.” He bowed deeply, suddenly hyper aware of his trembling knees and pink face.  
  
Helena scoffed. “Stop acting like a fool. Get up,” she said harshly, her voice as cold as ice. “Why are you here?” She came closer, the fire illuminating her sharp, but stunning features.  
  
“I came to find you,” Banchory said honestly. Choosing to leave out the fact that he’d actually been sent to find her. “I tracked you here, hoping that you would come home. That you would give me a chance.” The desperation had slowly edged into his voice.  
  
“Ha! I would never! I choose to be free. free of my mother’s shadow hanging over me. One day, I’ll be more important than her. Cleverer than she is. One day, she’ll be the ‘mother of Helena.’ She’ll be looked over just as I have been, just as I have become ‘Rowena’s daughter.’” Helena stood, back straight and head raised proudly.  
  
Banchory sighed. Her feelings concerning her mother weren’t new in the slightest. He hoped that she could suppress them for at least a little while and come home. “Well, you should come back for your mother, regardless of your feelings. She lies on her deathbed and desperately wishes to see you before she dies. She begged me to come and get you. You’re her daughter, and she loves you.”  
  
Helena’s face changed as if it had turned to stone. Expressionless, she looked away, off into the trees, her fingers clutching her skirt tightly.  
  
“No,” she said after a minute.  
  
“No?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Why?” Banchory asked, completely perplexed.  
  
“Because she doesn’t want to see me. She doesn’t even love me. She just wants something from me. “ Helena fixed her gaze on him again.  
  
Banchory frowned. “So that’s why you ran away.” He was unable to suppress a grin as an idea hit him. “Then run away with me. Become the wise Helena Burke, Lady of Banchory.”  
  
Helena laughed loudly, walking around the fire to stand closer to Banchory, her expression full of malice. “You’re such a romantic, Burke! I’m amazed you’re one of Slytherin’s pupils. I thought he preferred his students to be cold-blooded and heartless, like his precious snakes.”  
  
Banchory could feel his face become very hot as he gritted his teeth, refusing to retort with several insults. His hot-headed nature was flaring up, irritation increasing with every word she said.  
  
“I will never come with you. To wear my heart on my sleeve as you do is a weakness! I would never align myself with a man, much less a man like you!” Helena spat, her cheeks flushed from yelling, her strong, straight-backed posture loosening as she stepped closer to him, leaning forward without  realizing it.  
  
Banchory hated her in that moment.  
  
He hated how beautiful she looked. He hated how clever she was. She didn’t want him. He hated that she was so free and so independent, when he wasn’t. He hated that he was so devoted to her, and she just didn’t care. He hated that he had come all this way for nothing.  
  
He hated that he loved her. He hated _how much_  he loved her.  
  
He stepped forward, grabbing her roughly around the waist and pulling her to him. He cupped her face with his large, calloused hand and smashed his lips against hers, gripping her tightly as she tried to fight him.  
  
She struggled for several moments before giving in. She relaxed, eventually beginning to kiss him back.  
  
Banchory felt his heart race, sheer joy overcoming him just before he was jerked backwards, as if an invisible string was pulling him away from Helena.  
  
She stood over him now, his wand clutched tightly in her hand and a murderous look on her face. She spat on the ground, wiping her lips in disgust before refocusing her attention on him.  
  
“I’m going to kill you!” she hissed. “How _dare_  you lay a hand on a lady without her permission! You have gone too far this time, Burke. You will live long enough to regret this, and then I will kill you for your sins.”  
  
Yet, he could barely hear her. He only saw red, and was no longer in control of his anger. He kicked her feet out from under her, not knocking her to the ground, but enough to make her stumble. As she recovered her balance, he stood up and unsheathed his dagger, pointing it at her threateningly.  
  
“You wouldn’t.” Helena sneered.  
  
Banchory just glared at her.  
  
In the moment she made to move, her mouth beginning to form the word to a spell, her arm moving accordingly, he took two steps forward and plunged the knife into her ribcage.  
  
Immediately, she dropped the wand, and fell down.  
  
Instinctively, Banchory caught her, blood soaking his robes as he came to his knees.  
  
Coming to the realization of what he’d done, Banchory drew in shaky breaths, a single tear running down his face as he whispered, “I’m sorry. I am _so_ sorry.”  
  
Helena, the woman he loved, the most beautiful woman on earth, lay staring up at him, her entire being slowly fading into grey. It was as if all color was being sucked out of her along with the blood that gushed from her wound.  
  
“You will be,” she whispered, as the last bit of color, the blue in her eyes, faded, and she lay still.  
  
The scream that Banchory emitted next echoed through the forest for hours.  
  
He had killed the one thing he had ever loved, he had committed a crime whose punishment would be worse than death itself. He needed to suffer. He needed pain.  
  
Without thinking, he pulled the dagger from Helena’s lifeless body and plunged it into his chest, directly into his heart, which had betrayed him in every way.  
  
A searing, white hot pain erupted throughout his body as he fell over, lying next to his love. He stared up at the trees, just making out the stars that twinkled merrily above him.  
  
Death was inevitable now, but Banchory knew that it wouldn’t be enough. He still had to be punished, and he knew exactly what to do.  
  
\--------------------  
  
It did not take long for history to forget Lady Helena Ravenclaw or Lord Burke, Baron of Banchory.  
  
History forgot their story. History forgot how Helena, furious at Banchory, had refused to move on. History forgot that Banchory, in an act of penitence, had followed, choosing to wear heavy chains as a symbol of his crime, and that he’d never forgive himself for it.  
  
History forgot their names and began calling them The Grey Lady and The Bloody Baron.  
  
And one day, they forgot too.

**Author's Note:**

> The line I received for the 'Coined by Shakespeare' Challenge was _"Wear your heart on your sleeve"_ from  Othello. So, credit for that line goes to the absolute genius that Shakespeare is, and everything else goes to JKR.
> 
> In case any of you were wondering...I came up with the name 'Lord Burke, Baron of Banchory' from a couple of different places. Burke is the last name of one of the sacred 28 pureblood families - like the Burke from Borgin and Burkes. Banchory comes from a town in Scotland, which has a Quidditch team called The Banchory Bangers. It also, in real life, had a Barony associated with it. So, I styled the Bloody Baron's name in the way the Scots did way back when, and came up with what you see above!
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this story! Your thoughts are much appreciated!


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